


A Little Goes A Long Way

by NamelesslyNightlock, Nonexistenz



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Art, Bickering, Broken Bones, Card Games, Cards Against Humanity, Confessions, Domestic Fluff, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Falling In Love, Feels, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Frostiron Minibang 2019, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Healing, Hurt Loki (Marvel), Injury, Kissing, Loki & Tony Stark Friendship, Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, Loki (Marvel) Feels, Loki (Marvel) Is Not Good At Feelings, Loki (Marvel) Lies, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, Protective Loki (Marvel), Protective Tony Stark, Romantic Fluff, Talking, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-13 07:01:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21240083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NamelesslyNightlock/pseuds/NamelesslyNightlock, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nonexistenz/pseuds/Nonexistenz
Summary: When Loki gets hurt saving Tony's life, the Avengers want to make use of the opportunity to lock him up. But, Tony doesn't think that seems very fair—And, well. That’s how Tony acquires an injured Norse god for a roommate.





	A Little Goes A Long Way

**Author's Note:**

> This is our contribution for the 2nd Frostiron Minibang of 2019. We hope you enjoy it!  
  
Art by **Nonexistenz**, fic by **NamelesslyNightlock.**

When it happened, it happened so fast that for a few solid seconds Tony wasn’t even sure that it had happened at all.

The Avengers had been fighting against a pair of Asgardian magicians– the blonde Enchantress was enjoying herself far too much, her lips curled in a twisted grin as she destroyed everything she could reach with her magic. Loki, on the other hand, was wearing more of an amused smirk, and his attacks seemed to be more geared toward the goal of having fun and causing _chaos_ rather than aiming for destruction. When Loki lashed out at Clint with his seiðr, he didn’t aim to break bones or slice skin– he turned the archer’s arrows into heart shaped monstrosities that belonged on a Valentine’s Day card. And when he turned to Tony and started up with the usual villainous monologue, he wasn’t talking about how he was going to destroy something important or ruin all of the Avengers’ lives, like a _normal_ villain would have. Oh, no. He was too busy questioning _why_ someone with Tony’s skillset and disposition preferred to be with a band of heroes when _apparently_ – in Loki’s opinion, anyway – Tony would fit in so much better with a villain such as Loki himself.

Actually, you know what? To be honest, Tony couldn’t help but wonder what it was that Loki saw in _Amora_. They paired up often enough for it not to be just for convenience, but they hardly treated each other like friends, and most of the time their motives did not even seem to match. They certainly weren’t fighting as a team should– it always seemed more like they had randomly decided to attack the same place at the same time rather than this being a coordinated effort.

Take now, for example. Amora was running Steve, Nat, and Hulk around in circles, keeping them on their toes and cackling madly every time she managed to land a hit on any of them– but at the same time, she was forced to dodge the blasts of seiðr that Loki was chasing Tony with. Thor was long since out for the count, having been thrown through a portal to god knows where near the beginning of the fight– something that Amora had actually _screeched_ at Loki for, and for half a moment Tony had almost thought they might end up turning on each other. Unfortunately, though, they’d had no such luck—

But when Clint – having finally managed to exchange his heart-shaped arrows for spares from the quinjet after much swearing – came back to join the fight, Tony thought that they wouldn’t have too much more trouble. They may have lost Thor, and maybe if Amora and Loki were actually working _together_ it might have been a struggle– but the others had almost overcome the blonde and together Tony and Clint were more than capable of keeping Loki entertained until Amora was dealt with—

But it seemed that Amora had noticed the same thing, and in a bid for the unexpected—

“Tony!” Steve shouted, his voice almost panicked as rang loudly over the comms. “Behind you—!”

Tony turned just in time to see a blast of green magic hurtling toward him, too fast for him to be able to avoid, too strong for him to even _hope_ that his suit would be capable of protecting him from it—

But before he had even finished his assessment he was suddenly being shoved back and _away– _and then Loki was standing in front of him, his glowing hands outstretched and the sound of a snarl erupting from his lips.

Loki managed to dissipate the blast, but the force of it was too much for him to stop entirely– so even though the explosion of magic never hit its mark, Loki was thrown backward—

And he slammed into the wall of a building with a sickening _crack_.

Amora screamed, Loki’s name a curse on her lips—

But with Loki out of the game the Avengers were free to _all_ converge on her, and she had no choice but to flee, gathering her magic and disappearing with one final shout of betrayal.

But while Steve and the others finished chasing off the Enchantress, Tony’s gaze was drawn by someone else.

That crack really had sounded like something to worry about, and... Loki had yet to move from where he lay crumpled on the ground.

Tony was wary as he approached– he was all too aware of what Loki was capable of, and he didn’t want to startle him. Not after what had just happened, not with the mess of confusion currently whirring through Tony’s mind.

Lying there on the ground, with his head slumped down over his chest and his leg twisted at an unnatural angle, Loki just looked so… small.

And perhaps Tony wasn’t thinking straight, perhaps he wasn’t thinking at all– but he found himself talking a small step forward, his helmet folding away into his suit as he moved with the intention of crouching down to help—

But it would seem that he had hesitated a moment too long. For he’d barely taken that first step before someone came to stand at his shoulder. 

“Nice,” said Clint. “Awesome.”

“Hang on a minute,” Tony started, but—

“Nat, have we still got those Asgardian manacles, or did Thor have them?” Steve asked, already stepping forward—

“You’re not serious?” Tony asked, the words falling from his lips before they’d even properly formed in his mind.

Steve paused, and turned to Tony with a frown. “What do you mean?”

For a moment, Tony wondered if he should just leave it. After all, Loki was a _villain_. He’d just destroyed a good portion of the street in his attempts to swat Tony out of the sky like an insect. Loki was a public menace at best with a rap sheet half a mile long, and he _deserved_ to be locked away– which, incidentally, was what the Avengers had been trying to do ever since Loki had first appeared on their radar by trying to _invade the planet._

_But._

“He saved my life,” Tony said, his voice holding far more confidence than he was actually feeling. “And look, I know I’m not usually the voice of morality on this team but _maybe,_ saving a life shouldn’t be repaid with being—” 

“Tony, don’t be such a wet towel,” Clint complained. “You know he’s just going to break out again in a few weeks anyway—”

“Then what’s the point in locking him up in the first place?” Tony cut in. He knew that Clint was right– Loki really did break out of the SHIELD cells all too frequently and seemingly without breaking a sweat. But, when Tony’s gaze ran over Loki’s unconscious form again, coming to rest on that leg– he thought there was a high chance that Loki _wouldn’t_ be breaking out easily. Not with an injury like that. And maybe it was a really bad idea, but he couldn’t let them repay what Loki had done by locking him away. 

And besides– surely saving an Avenger’s life was something they should be _encouraging_ in the villain community? 

So. 

“You know what?” Tony asked, donning his helmet once again. “There is another way we can solve this. J, get Days of Our Lives on the line for me, will you?”

“Tony, I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Steve groaned– but he sounded more exasperated than annoyed, so. Tony figured he was fine to just ignore him. 

Fury’s greeting was as straight to the point as it was monosyllabic. 

“No.”

“That’s a little premature,” Tony said. “You don’t even know what I’m going to ask.”

Fury let out a long sigh. “If this is about the retro-reflective panels again—”

“We’ve got Loki,” Tony interrupted.

“_Again?”_ Fury groaned. “All right, you know the drill. Make sure he’s not too loud this time, I’m sick of needing to get repairmen into the cargo bay—”

“No, see, I don’t want to bring him in this time,” Tony said– trying to ignore the way that Clint was sniggering, as if he had _expected_ this to happen. “I want to take him back to the Tower—”

“I don’t have time for this—”

“That’s why this is perfect!” Tony exclaimed. “Think about it. No need to pay for guards, no need to feed him. And, no embarrassment when he breaks out of your apparently impenetrable prison for the fourteenth time—” 

“I should rephrase,” Fury cut in. “I don’t have time for _you._ If you want him, Stark, then take him. Just… _please_ try to make sure that when he does break out of your custody, he doesn’t take half of New York with him?” 

“Well, thank you for the vote of confidence—”

“You do like to remind me on a near daily basis that you built SHIELD’s security system,” Fury said. “So who’s really to blame for all of Loki’s breakouts?” 

“I only do that to remind you that I could, at any given moment, put Tom Jones on a loop across every SHIELD base—” 

The dial tone cut Tony off, and he huffed as he retracted his helmet once again. “Well,” he said. “That was rude.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “We’re going back to the compound for a debrief,” he said, gesturing to where the others were already starting to head back to the quinjet. “Just… get Loki somewhere secure. And when he wakes up, try to get him to tell you where he sent Thor, so we have some idea of how long it’ll take for him to turn back up again.” 

Tony grinned at that. Oh, brilliant. It seemed that Tony really had made the right call, then. Getting out of a meeting was always a cause for celebration—

“And Tony?”

“Yeah, Steve?”

“If he _does_ destroy your tower when he wakes up, just remember that I tried to talk you out of it.” 

Tony made a show of pulling a face, but the moment Steve’s back was turned, he looked back down to the person that had rather suddenly fallen into his care. 

And as the quinjet took off and Tony was left standing over Loki alone, he realised… that maybe he hadn’t totally thought this through. Usually, he would just fly back to the Tower, but looking at that horrible kink in the middle of Loki’s thigh– Tony was pretty sure that wasn’t going to be feasible.

But, okay. That was no matter. He was _Tony Stark_, and he was more than capable of coming up with a solution to this. Easy peasy—

And then, with a victorious smile, Tony put his helmet back on once again. 

“Hey, Happy,” Tony said the moment the call connected. “I need a favour.” 

~\~

It really was a blessing that Happy, unlike Pepper, had yet to develop the instinctive surge of suspicion whenever Tony asked for a favour in a bright and cheerful voice. However, he was also surprisingly unflappable, and despite a few murmured complaints about Loki’s armour sticking into rather uncomfortable places, Happy took to the task like a champ. 

Still, even between the two of them _and_ Tony’s suit it took a fair while and a fair amount of cursing to get Loki into the back of the car– the only saving grace in the situation being that JARVIS had the foresight to tell Happy to bring the limo, rather than one of the sportscars.

But even then it was still a trial, because Loki was fucking _heavy_ – over 500 pounds, if JARVIS’ calculations were to be believed – and since he was unconscious, it wasn’t like he was easy to move. The broken leg – for Tony was almost _certain_ that it was broken – also made things rather difficult, for Tony was more than a little worried about jostling it the wrong way or knocking it against the doorframe. And for a short moment, Tony did actually consider calling an ambulance – for ease of transport more than anything else – but he didn’t think that Loki would appreciate being taken to a hospital. 

So, he and Happy did the best they could, and though it took rather a long time they did finally manage to get Loki lying down on a spare bed in Tony’s penthouse. 

That done, Tony _did_ call a doctor– but his own personal doctor, the one Pepper had talked him into getting after she’d caught him trying to sew up a bullet wound with a bit of dental floss. What followed was more than a little gruesome, because Loki’s leg needed to be properly set– but the doctor didn’t have the physical strength required to deal with Loki’s Asgardian physique. So Tony had to set the bone while in the suit, pushing exactly where he was told and trying to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach as he did so. 

But once the bones were set, there wasn’t really anything else that the doctor could do. He offered to prescribe some pills based on what they knew of Thor’s physiology, but it wasn’t something they’d actually ever tried before, and they couldn’t be _certain_ whether any painkillers would even work. In a way, they were lucky that Loki had remained unconscious while they had been setting his bone, but that just left Tony worried about how hard he must have hit his head. 

And _that_, of course, opened up a whole new slew of questions because– _why_ was Tony worried, exactly? 

He told himself it was that hero complex again that Pepper liked to complain about, mixed in with a simple human empathy that Tony would have felt for _anyone_ in this kind of situation. Especially since Tony had just been literally rearranging Loki’s bones. Ugh. 

Whatever. 

Now, all that was left to be done was to… well, to leave Loki to his own devices, and hope that his enhanced healing would do the rest of the job.

And. Tony totally _did not_ stand over Loki’s bed after the doctor left. Nope. Because that would be _creepy_, and Tony was not a creepy person. 

Tony did, however, lay a blanket over Loki since he and Happy had unfortunately laid the guy on top of the comforter, and they’d had to cut away some of his leather armour in order to get at his injury. (Using diamond-edged blades, by the way, because apparently Asgardian armour was hardcore.)

That done, Tony _might_ have hovered for a few more moments before heading out of the room, hoping to find something to occupy his mind because _honestly._ Worrying over Loki was ridiculous.

Not only was Loki Tony’s enemy, he was also a god who could heal at a rate that was entirely unfair. He’d be _fine_. 

Yet the penthouse felt oddly quiet as he passed through on his way to the elevator, and by the time he made his way inside he was already asking JARVIS to blast his loudest playlist through the ‘shop. 

It shouldn’t have been unsettling– it wasn’t like it was any quieter than normal. The Avengers had all moved out and into the compound up-state months earlier, and Tony had chosen to stay in the tower because he _liked_ having his own space. And it had worked out for the better– it meant that the other Avengers didn’t have to deal with having Loki in their living space, and Tony could only assume it would be easier for Loki to deal with only the one Avenger when he woke up, rather than the entire freaking pack of them. 

And yet… it was _quiet_. 

Even when Tony stepped into his natural habitat to the sound of Bon Scott’s dulcet tones, it still wasn’t quite right. But if there was one thing he and Thor could agree on it was that there was never a thing that couldn’t be fixed with a few good whacks of a hammer, and he wasted no time throwing himself into his most recent project. 

And it worked, for a while. The music turned up until it was pounding in his head, and he lost himself in the scent of hot metal and the dull ache of exertion. But his mind was always whirring, never coming to a stop– and it wasn’t long before the outside world started to creep back in again.

He couldn’t help but think about the things that Loki was going to need when he woke up– the difficulties that he was going to face with a broken leg. Because with a break like that in the middle of the femur, there was no way that Loki would be able to move around on his own. Not even if he had crutches. 

It wasn’t that Tony _cared_, of course it wasn’t. It was just that he never could leave a new idea alone, and from the moment the blueprints began to draw themselves in his mind he knew there was no way he could stop his hands from beginning to work. 

Oh well. At least that was enough of a distraction that he no longer glanced over toward the elevator, wondering how his impromptu houseguest was faring. 

~\~

It was some hours later before JARVIS _finally_ let Tony know that Loki was starting to stir– and maybe Tony hurried back into that spare room with a little more speed than was necessary. He made it just in time to see Loki’s eyes flutter open—

And then they widened in confusion and _fear_, Loki’s hands scrabbling at the covers, his legs twisting under the blanket—

Then Loki gasped in pain, and all of his movements froze. 

“Good morning, Bambi,” Tony said brightly, deciding that announcing himself was certainly going to be the best cause of action right now– there was no point in waiting and startling Loki even further. “How are you feeling?”

Loki’s eyes narrowed, and despite the broken leg and the way that he was curled into himself, he looked like a snake that was ready to strike at any moment. “Stark,” he said, his voice a little hoarse from pain and– well, he was still wary, but didn’t seem as fearful as he had been half a second earlier. 

“Oh good, so we don’t have to do the how many fingers am I holding up test,” Tony said brightly. “Do you know what day it is?”

Loki stared– or, well. It was more of a _glare,_ really. 

“No? Okay, uh– what’s the last thing you remember?” Tony inched closer to the bed, his brow furrowing. 

“I don’t remember coming here,” Loki snapped. “And I don’t—” he winced as he moved again, and then he turned his glare down to where his legs were still covered by the crumpled blanket before looking back up to Tony. And when he spoke again, his tone held promise of violence. “Where am I?”

“My penthouse.” 

“_Why—”_

“You saved my life,” Tony said– hoping that the statement would have the dual purpose of explaining and assuring Loki that he meant no harm. “And while most people would tell you that was probably a terrible decision, I think it was a good move on your part. I mean, they wanted to chuck you in a dreary prison cell but I decided to bring you here instead. I mean, I can’t say I personally have much experience with the inside of SHIELD’s cells, but I’m _pretty sure_ that the mattresses around here are at least a little more comfortable than whatever metal contraption they keep in their—”

“Do you _ever_ shut up?” Loki complained, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the pillow– which, Tony decided to take as something of a small victory. 

“Not really no,” Tony admitted. “I mean, maybe when I’m sleeping, but I do actually know that I—”

“Is it too late to go into the prison?” Loki groaned. 

“Ouch,” Tony said, holding a hand over his heart. “That hurt, Reindeer Games. Really. I’m _cut.”_

Loki might have had his eyes closed, but Tony could _feel_ the eyeroll– and he grinned in response. 

“I think this is going to be fun,” he said. “How long does it take Asgardians to heal?”

Loki muttered something under his breath– something that sounded like it might have been a ‘_too long_.’ 

“Awesome,” Tony said– and when Loki threw out a hand and a blast of green seiðr, Tony just grinned as he ducked out of the way. 

Oh, well. Hopefully, Loki would be grateful enough for having been kept out of prison that when he inevitably escaped Tony’s penthouse, he wouldn’t blow up the whole tower on his way out. 

(And his grin widened, of course, when the seiðr ended up just dissipating against the wall instead of doing any actual damage. He _knew_ Loki liked him… somewhere deep down.) 

~\~

When Tony suggested that he keep Loki in the penthouse instead of sending him to SHIELD, he probably should have thought a little more about the logistics of it all. 

The problem, though, wasn’t just that Loki needed food and entertainment, and it wasn’t just that Loki was apparently a right pain in the ass when he was… well, when he was in pain. 

Oh, no. 

Tony could have coped with all of that. He would have been fine. But what he _couldn’t_ deal with was the fact that Loki _would_ need to be able to get out of his bed at some point or another for menial yet necessary tasks such as having a shower. 

When Tony first realised that he’d need to deal with such things, he’d just frozen right where he’d been in the middle of washing a coffee mug, the detergent suds dripping from his stilled hands—

Because he might have been willing to help Loki recover, but he didn’t want to help the guy go and take a leak. That was just a little _too_ familiar for his liking, you know? And while the half-finished project down in the workshop would certianly fix the problem, Loki hadn’t even been able to wash himself since the fight– so Tony needed something a little more right the fuck now, and that was rather more difficult to arrange. 

But Tony isn’t called a genius for nothing, and by the time he was done with the dishes he was pretty sure he had a solution. 

So when he went into Loki’s room with his idea upon his lips and JARVIS directing the suit to follow right on his tail, he thought that Loki might be _grateful—_

Of course, things could never be that easy. 

“I am perfectly capable of attending to such things my_self_,” Loki hissed– and somehow, even with his leg in a plaster cast and lying down on Tony’s spare bed, Loki still managed to look entirely menacing. 

“I know you can teleport, but are you really going to risk landing on one foot in the shower?”

“This conversation is humiliating,” Loki muttered—

“Hey, it’s the best I’ve got! Surely it would be worse if I was _in_ the suit—”

“Just leave, Stark!” Loki snapped, his eyes narrowed and burning with such irritation that Tony could practically feel it boring a hole through his skin. 

And maybe Tony should have just done it. After all, it wasn’t like Loki wasn’t in a bit of a shitty situation– if Tony was imobile and injured and forced to rely on an enemy for literally _everything_, he’d probably be in a fairly awful mood as well. But it just scratched at him the wrong way, because he was bending over backwards here, and the most Loki could manage in return was to be about as pleasant as it felt to run a hand over a fucking cactus. So it was hard not to feel a little spiteful.

“This _is_ my penthouse,” Tony muttered. “Maybe you’re royalty on Asgard, but I’m not going to wait on your every whim, you hear me?” 

Something in Loki’s expression stuttered at that, but the response was so fleeting that Tony thought he might have imagined it. Loki didn’t say anything else, he merely glanced away with a stony look in his gaze– and as Tony walked out of the room, he almost felt a little guilty for what he had said. 

Maybe it _was_ a little harsh– and besides. He did still have that other project down in the workshop. That would work far better, for _all _involved– and if Loki wanted to use his seiðr to give himself a shower, then fine. If he wanted to move around the penthouse, however, then he was probably going to need something a little more low-tech. 

But then, it was just as if Loki were being difficult on _purpose—_

Because when Tony emerged from the workshop later that day – after literal _hours_ of work – with a completely revolutionary wheelchair that ran on arc-reactor and repulsor technology and thus had a battery that would last for _years_ – and was even capable of propelling up steps, thank-you-very-much – Loki just sneered at it. 

And you know what? In terms of Loki’s attitude, that was hardly even the worst of it. Loki was prickly and dismissive, quick to anger and arrogant beyond belief. And it was… _hard_. Tony supposed he probably should have seen this coming. It wasn’t like anyone he knew had _ever_ said that Loki was anything other than difficult. But, well. Somehow, for some reason, Tony realised that he had been expecting something different. 

They had spent months and months going at each other from the opposite ends of a battlefield, and Tony had always managed to actually enjoy their confrontations. They could joke and tease and _grin _because they had that safety net of it being a _fight_ between them, but once that was gone—

Well. Tony wondered if the joking and the teasing might have felt a little too much like an actual conversation, or even perhaps something more than that. And you know what? Tony didn’t think he would have minded, but– well, it probably would have damaged Loki’s reputation, right? Maybe Loki didn’t like the thought of being almost _friendly_ with an Avenger, and when Tony had decided to help him it had brought down that barrier– and so perhaps, in response, Loki was putting up barriers of his own. 

And you know what, if Loki was trying to put up barriers between them, then. He was certainly succeeding. 

(And when Loki painstakingly complained about a lack of meat when Tony brought him a hearty slice of quiche for his dinner, Tony was _this fucking close_ to throwing the plate at Loki’s head– or perhaps even at his leg, since that would probably elicit a far more entertaining response.) 

But, hey. Tony was not the kind of guy to give in just because Loki was being a stubborn little shit. He was _sure_ there was more underneath the surface than Loki wanted anyone else to see, and he would help to pull that free if it was the last thing he did. 

Well, no, okay, maybe not the _last_ thing. He had other stuff to do, it wasn’t like he was just going to drop everything to try and defeat Loki in a game that was possibly all in Tony’s own head. But he wasn’t just going to let the challenge go unanswered, either. 

So, when Tony brought Loki some breakfast the next day – a plate of eggs _and_ bacon, so there was _no way_ that he could complain – he also brought a certain stack of cards.

“What is that?” Loki asked, his green eyes narrowing into that look of suspicion that Tony was coming to know so _very_ well. 

“Bacon,” he said, shoving the plate under Loki’s nose.

“You know that is not what I—”

“You’re going to need your strength if you’re going to get out of here,” Tony said. “And while _I,_ of course, absolutely _adore_ having your presence bless my home, I get the slight impression that you don’t feel the same. So, go on. Eat up.” 

Loki’s expression did that weird spasmy thing again, the one that Tony was pretty sure was just an annoyed tick. He’d learned to ignore it– and so Tony focused instead on carefully pulling the black and white cards from their packet. With slow, exaggerated movements, he began to organise the cards in his hands, first separating the two piles by colour and then shuffling each one. 

Tony could feel eyes on him, and he couldn’t hear the clink of a fork against a plate– and he made sure to hide his smile as he looked up.

“Not hungry?” he asked. 

Loki looked so very suspicious that it was almost comical, his plate balancing precariously in his lap and his brow creased into a frown. 

“Come on, Lokes,” Tony said. “_Eat_. Maybe then I’ll tell you what this is.” 

Somehow, that actually _worked._ Loki looked like he was being forced to swallow down asphalt rather than eggs and bacon but he still did it, and Tony felt a little victorious when Loki shoved the empty plate onto his bedside table with a _clang._

“All right, Stark,” Loki snapped. “What is it?”

“We’re going to play a game,” Tony said brightly. 

“A game?”

Tony _had_ expected the sour tone, but– he held back his smirk when he caught a glint of interest in Loki’s gaze. 

“Yeah,” Tony replied. “It _is_ usually better with more people, but I figure that between the two of us we’ll still manage to make it work. I could ask DUM-E to join us, but his sense of humour is a little… different. And JARVIS cheats.”

“Sir, I would never—”

“Yeah, course not,” Tony said, waving a hand. “Maybe next time, J. But for now, it’s just going to be me versus you, Lokes, just like the good old days. Only this time, there will be less property damage and more bad jokes.” 

“I didn’t think it was possible to get worse than the jokes you tell on the battlefield,” Loki quipped– and Tony felt his smile turn into something a little more real. Something a little more _excited._ This, _this_ was what Tony had been hoping for– because this was the Loki he had been missing over the past few days.

“That’s hurtful,” Tony said seriously. 

“Yet no less true.”

“You really are in a mood today, aren’t you? That’s okay, I can probably fix that.” 

Loki listened with rapt attention as Tony briefly went over the rules, and in no time at all they were complaining about each other’s cards. And after only just the first few rounds, Tony was actually managing to enjoy himself. He’d _known_ that this was a good idea– one of Loki’s titles had always been the _Liesmith_, and Tony knew exactly how much Loki loved to play around with words. A game like Cards Against Humanity was right up his alley– and of course, from the first moment they came across one of the cards from the Cards Against Avengers expansion pack Tony hadn’t been able to resist buying, Loki’s contributions became _brutal._

Tony couldn’t help but think that he had made the perfect choice. It wasn’t the kind of game that needed a lot of brainpower, so Loki wouldn’t grow frustrated if he was a little distracted by his pain– but it was still entertaining enough to be a distraction _from_ his pain. 

And to be honest, Tony didn’t even _notice_ the time passing until JARVIS reminded him that he needed to be at an SI R&D meeting within the next 20 minutes, and he realised that they had been playing for over two hours. 

Ah well, Tony figured that probably meant that Loki would be getting pretty sick of him—

But then Loki’s expression fell a little when Tony said he had to go. 

“Do you want me to bring another game later?” Tony asked– and as the words fell from his lips, Tony realised… that there was a rather important question that so far, he’d failed to ask. So, he asked it. “Or is there anything else you’d like me to get for you?”

Loki appeared to hesitate– and after days of irritation and animosity, it was odd to see him looking so open. 

But then he merely glanced to his beside, and moved to hand Tony his dirty breakfast plate from hours earlier. 

Tony took it with a smile, and then – leaving the box of cards at Loki’s side – he headed for the door—

“Stark?”

Tony turned back at the sound of Loki’s voice. “Yeah?”

“I don’t suppose… that you have any books?” 

“Yeah,” Tony replied. “Yeah, I think I can find something for you.”

And there _was_ a chance that he was imagining it, but– as Tony turned back toward the door, he thought that he saw Loki smile. 

~\~ 

As it turned out, the secret to cracking Loki’s bad mood was not actually all that complicated. 

Because from that first game of Cards Against Humanity, Loki almost became… well, no, not _pleasant,_ since Tony got the impression that was probably a word that Loki went out of his way to avoid being associated with. But, he was actually pretty fun to be around. 

From there, didn’t take long for Tony to make the simple connection. It just seemed that Loki reacted rather similarly to boredom as Tony did, and that as soon as he had something to occupy that constantly moving mind of his, he stopped snapping at every single thing Tony did and began to offer actual decent conversation instead. 

And the moment Tony managed to work that out, it was like he’d unlocked a whole new layer of Loki’s personality– and rather than the prickly, angry person who had been locked away in his spare room for the past couple of days, Tony found himself spending time with a _friend_. 

Each morning, instead of bringing Loki breakfast, he would help Loki into the wheelchair that the god had _finally_ deemed good enough for his royal arse. Then, sometimes, Loki would stay in the wheelchair as he sat at the table, and they would eat breakfast together almost like ordinary human beings. Sometimes, they would then go off to do separate things. Sometimes, Tony would help him out of the chair so that he could sit more comfortably on the couch– and then on occasion, Loki would stay there, or… 

Well. Sometimes Tony would stay with him, and they would do something together. And it wasn’t always games or conversation, though Tony did always enjoy doing those things. No, he and Loki didn’t need idle chatter to fill a silence– they could just _be_ side by side in complete comfort, simply sharing a space and enjoying each other’s company. 

It was… _nice—_

And soon enough, Tony found himself enjoying the quiet moments more than anything else.

So perhaps it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that Tony started going out of his way to spend more time with Loki. He pretty much always felt like he was drowning in work, and yet somehow it felt easier than it should have to push back his projects or to tell JARVIS to email people about delays or to simply just miss a meeting entirely than it did to brush Loki off, even if all they were going to do was sit together on the couch. (Tony tried not to admit that sitting with Loki often helped calm him more than working through the night to get something finished.)

And, besides. Loki was hurt. Tony couldn’t just leave him alone with only JARVIS for company. Because, the AI was great and all, but, he couldn’t do much to actually _help_ a person with a badly broken leg.

What if Loki fell off the couch, and he couldn’t get back up again? What if he needed a drink of water and he couldn’t fetch it from the kitchen? Or what if he got bored without someone there to talk to, and tried to do something reckless and ended up hurting himself? 

And, yeah, okay. So maybe Tony _knew_ it was ridiculous to be worrying about these things. Loki was a _god_, and besides– he had his magic. Tony’d _seen_ him summon a glass of scotch and a fancy cocktail – complete with a goddamn paper umbrella – after Tony had tried refused to fetch him the ‘drink you owe me, Stark, don’t think I have forgotten’ with the excuse that it was only midday—

And god, but Tony had _tried_ not to be amused by that smug little grin. Loki was still an asshole, but– he was Tony’s favourite kind of asshole. Even if he _had_ summoned two glasses of alcohol and then all but waved one of them under Tony’s nose—

But… maybe what had made him like Loki the most was how he’d made both the cocktail and the glass of scotch vanish the moment that Tony had looked uncomfortable. Tony hadn’t even needed to admit his reason for not wanting the alcohol within his reach– Loki had taken one look at his expression and… that was that, no questions asked. And maybe… maybe _that_, more than even the fact that Loki had saved his life, was what had Tony softening toward him. 

Not, of course, that Tony entirely noticed it was happening. 

At least. 

Not at first. 

It was maybe a week after Loki had broken his leg – five days since the first game of Cards Against Humanity – that Tony first realised just how much he’d begun to let down his guard around his erstwhile enemy. 

Tony had been moving around the penthouse, doing chores and little errands that needed to be done before he could head down to the workshop. He did everything, of course, while chatting his head off about how Clint had somehow managed to get an arrow stuck in the coffee machine in the Avengers compound, which – according to Tony’s sources (and thank you for the video footage, JARVIS) – had turned the entire place into something of a warzone. Loki had been following along behind him in his wheelchair, interjecting every now and then—

Which, _obviously_, meant that the conversation quickly turned into a full-blown debate about the merits of tea vs coffee, because they never could just have a quiet discussion without butting heads over _something—_

And Tony had just. Stepped into the elevator, and then had entered his workshop without even thinking until—

“You do not have access to this area.”

Tony paused midstep, and then turned to see that JARVIS had shut the door to the workshop in Loki’s face. By the time Tony had turned, Loki was already looking away– but Tony caught a glimpse of his expression, crestfallen and disappointed. 

And Tony… well. Despite everything, he didn’t even have to think about it. 

“It’s okay, JARVIS,” he said– and the words were actually surprisingly easy to say. “Let him in.” 

He was glad when JARVIS didn’t comment, and just opened the door so that Loki could roll his way inside. Though, it took a couple of seconds before Loki did so, staring a little at the open doorway before he shook himself out of whatever thought he was stuck in and made his way into the workshop. 

For a moment, Tony thought that Loki was going to just pretend that… whatever had just happened hadn’t happened, but then he looked up to meet Tony’s gaze with a single word on his lips. 

“Why?”

“Why not?” Tony shrugged, his tone casual despite the gravity of the moment. He, after all, knew how big this actually was. And to be honest… the fact that Loki so clearly did as well just proved once again that he _was_ someone Tony wanted to be spending time with. “Are you going to steal my designs?”

Loki actually crinkled his nose. “Why would I take designs for such archaic technology?”

“Okay, so, I am choosing to ignore that frankly _insulting—”_

“Thank you.”

Tony blinked, not having expected such a sudden and… _soft_ interruption in the slightest. “Uh… you’re welcome? But look, that is an _unfair _way of distracting me, because—”

“For taking me in,” Loki continued. “I am not unaware of what you risked, and what you have done for me. So… thank you.”

“You’re welcome?” Tony said, still feeling a little confused.

“Of course, I did save your life. One would think that you might have repaid that at least by making sure that your kitchen was stocked with a _proper_ beverage, rather than that swill you drink every morning.” 

Tony almost _spluttered_, because _excuse—_

“Now, were you planning on building something? Because if you do not currently have any ideas, then I might I suggest creating a kettle? The method you are currently using to boil water is not to my satisfaction.”

Tony stared. Loki couldn’t have seen him boiling water in the microwave, he’d never even been in the kitchen. “How can you even—”

“Anthony,” Loki said, his green eyes glittering with amusement. “Perhaps the bitterness of your coffee means that quality doesn’t matter, but tea is something different. I _know_.” 

And as Loki arched a brow and then nodded toward Tony’s workbench, Tony just couldn’t help it– he burst into a bout of laughter that was far brighter than his laugh had been in rather a long time. 

~\~

_How long does it take for a broken leg to heal?_

The answer to the question that constantly floated through Tony’s mind seemed to differ, depending on who Tony asked. A simple Google had definitely been a bad idea, since he was pretty sure that Loki _didn’t_ have cancer, and JARVIS quoted a few medical articles at him that had absolutely no relevance, since they were, of course, all about humans. Bruce, in a phone call during which Tony learned that it _is_ possible to hear exaggerated patience in a person’s tone, told him that it varied from person to person– but he _did_ remind Tony that they’d all seen Thor break his arm that time he thought trying to arm-wrestle Hulk was a good idea, and he’d been entirely healed in little more than a day. 

Rhodey, meanwhile, had simply rolled his eyes when Tony had asked, then turned around and asked _Tony_ which answer he wanted– since he must be looking for something in particular that no one else had given him if he was resorting to asking _Rhodey_ a question about _medical science_, which was about as far from Rhodey’s specialty of weapons technology as it was possible to get.

But… Tony wasn’t _sure_ which answer he wanted, and he didn’t want to examine the reason why he kept on asking. 

Because… 

If he were being honest… he was _hoping_ that Loki’s leg would take a fair bit longer to heal yet. Because…

Well, _because…_

Tony knew that the moment Loki was healed, he would _go_. But Tony had come to rather enjoy spending time with him, and he would be more than just sad to see Loki leave. 

But Tony knew that Loki didn’t like being cooped up inside the tower. Hell, Tony would have hated it himself. Loki might be putting on a brave face but he wasn’t going to be properly happy until he was out causing mischief again, and… Tony _hated_ that he was hoping that wouldn’t be for a long time yet. 

So, yeah, okay. Maybe Tony did know which answer he wanted to hear, and maybe he felt fucking guilty for it. 

He had come to think of Loki as a close friend, perhaps even one of his best. _How_ that had happened was something of a mystery and yet… it felt like the most natural and truthful thing, all at the same time. He wanted Loki to be happy. He _did_. 

But… he didn’t want to lose him, either. 

He didn’t want to lose the way he actually felt excited to get out his bed in the mornings just because he knew that he would be bringing Loki his (kettle-boiled) tea. He didn’t want to lose hearing the sound of Loki’s laugh whenever he hurt himself in some ridiculous and entirely avoidable way in the workshop. And… he didn’t want to lose the way that Loki’s fingers would gently trace whatever wound he’d managed to inflict upon himself, the soft tingling sensation of seiðr sparking under Loki’s touch which healed his hurts even as Loki admonished him for not being careful enough. 

Fuck. So maybe he… maybe he was starting to want Loki around a little more than he should, and… well. It didn’t matter, did it? 

Because it wasn’t like Loki was going to stay, not when he didn’t have to. What Tony wanted didn’t _matter_, because the only thing that was going to influence when Loki left was how quickly Loki healed. And as they neared the middle of their third week together, Tony began to actually find himself _worrying._

Because… Bruce was right. They’d all seen Thor recover from a broken arm in a day, but Loki was _still in the wheelchair._

It was a thought that wouldn’t leave Tony alone, a thought that niggled at his mind until it was more than just a simple annoyance. 

_How long? How long until it means that something is actually wrong? _

“Hey, Lokes?”

They were sitting together on the couch in the workshop, Loki staring at one of the newest designs for Iron Man – and looking a little impressed actually, so take that Mr ‘_archaic technology’_ – and Tony had meant to be getting a start on building the damn thing, but… he just. He needed to ask. 

“Have you ever… broken a bone before?”

“Anthony,” Loki laughed– and Tony didn’t even roll his eyes at the name Loki had taken to calling him in payback for the Reindeer Games that still slipped out a little too often. Tony would never admit it out loud, but the name that had once grated at him almost made him smile, now– at least when it was said in Loki’s voice. “I am a Prince of Asgard, and I grew up as Thor’s _brother_. Do you really believe that I could have escaped such a childhood without a single broken bone?”

Tony might have asked more about Loki’s childhood, because– well, because he just wanted to know as much about Loki as he could. But he wanted to– he _needed_ to know that Loki was going to be okay. So, instead– “Then… how long does it normally take, for you to heal?” he asked. 

Loki turned away from the designs to meet Tony’s gaze with a curious expression. “Why do you want to know?”

“Well, Thor heals a lot faster than this, you know?” Tony said. “And I’m just wondering if there’s something wrong, or if there’s something that you need?” 

“You’re comparing me to Thor?” Loki asked– and there was something in his voice that Tony wasn’t sure what to make of. 

“Yes?” Tony shrugged. “I mean, he’s the only other Agardian I know. So.”

Loki’s expression pinched. “I am not…” He paused again, as if he were considering something rather carefully, weighing up pros and cons– and then he drew in a short breath. “You know that I am adopted?” he asked. 

“Well, yeah,” Tony said. “Thor mentioned it, once or twice, and I _do_ remember you throwing that chair through the wall the first time JARVIS called you Mr _Odinson.”_

“I am sorry about that,” Loki winced. 

“It’s okay, you had a rough couple of days,” Tony chuckled. “But… what does that have to do with…” he trailed off, his eyes widening as he realised the only reason Loki could have for bringing this up right now. “Oh. You’re not Asgardian, are you?” 

“I would say that I am, if only because I was raised there.” The corners of Loki’s lips quirked up, as if he had told a joke– but his eyes had gone a little dark, and Tony was fairly sure that the smirk was just another of Loki’s masks. “I am Asgardian the same way that you are American. But… I am not an _Aesir_.” 

Tony was tempted to ask the obvious question. He really, _really_ was, the curiosity burning within him at such an intensity that he felt like he was going to explode. It was that same curiosity which usually resulted in him asking too many questions or sticking his nose where it didn’t belong only for it to – in one way or another – get bitten off, but…

In this instance, he forced it all down. Because as much as he wanted to know the answer, the question wasn’t one that he _wanted_ to ask, not when Loki clearly wasn’t ready to talk about it. 

So, instead of saying something that would probably not only get him in trouble but make Loki uncomfortable—

“Then… you’re saying that you’re not healing as fast as Thor, because you’re a different race than him?” he asked. 

“Exactly.” Loki seemed to relax a little for the first time since the start of the conversation, and Tony felt glad that he appeared to have said the right thing. “So you see, there really is no need to worry, Anthony. I will heal in my own time, and it really is no surprise that it is taking longer than it would for Thor to heal from such an injury.” Then he smiled, though it still seemed a little bitter. “You will not be burdened with me forever.”

Tony’s brow instantly furrowed. “Hey, no. Lokes, that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what is?” Loki asked– though this time, there was a touch of innocence to his tone which—

Tony narrowed his eyes. “You are such a little shit,” he accused. “You’re just trying to get me to say I like you—”

“I would never do such a thing,” Loki denied. “There would be no need to try, since you so obviously give yourself away with that sappy smile every time I walk toward you—” 

“Roll toward, you mean. Maybe I just think that’s funny.”

“Wheels are rather efficient,” Loki retorted. “Maybe you should think about adding some to your suit. You might have a better chance at catching me the next time we face each other on the battlefield.”

“I think I did a pretty good job of catching you already, actually—”

“I believe the credit for my current predicament should go to Amora—”

“Yeah, and what is _up_ with that?” Tony asked, happy for the almost-distraction from the fact that once Loki was healed, things would go back to _normal_. “You guys don’t even seem to get along. Why do you keep teaming up with her?”

At that, Loki just smirked. “Oh, Anthony,” he sighed. “I am actually rather disappointed that you haven’t worked that out already.” 

And, okay. A statement like that was quite obviously bait, but– how was Tony supposed to resist taking it? That was a challenge _and_ an excuse to get to know even more of Loki all rolled into one, and there was nothing Tony could do but allow himself to be pulled in by it. 

Which meant, of course, that it was only later – after hours of discussion, of laughter, of _learning_ as much about Loki as he could manage – that Tony realised Loki had never actually given an answer to his original, nagging question.

_How long does it take…_

_How long do we have left?_

But to be honest… Tony was no longer entirely convinced that he _wanted_ to know the answer. 

~\~

When JARVIS announced that Thor had finally returned from his sudden and rather unexpected vacation to – somewhere called _Sakaar, _apparently – Tony’s first and immediate reaction was to turn straight to Loki. 

Tony had been boiling the bloody kettle that had taken up residence at the now dry bar, and he only had to glance up to meet Loki’s gaze. Loki was propped on the couch, his bad leg lying stretched over the pillows while the other was bent up– though he sat up straight the moment he heard his brother’s name fall from JARVIS’ speakers.

“JARVIS,” Loki said, his voice sounding almost _panicked_. “Please. Do _not_ tell Thor that I am here.”

Tony frowned, and put down the Iron Man mug he had just picked up in favour of moving closer to Loki. 

“My apologies, Mr Liesmith,” JARVIS said, and he really did sound regretful. “But I am afraid that the Avengers have already done so. Had Sir warned me that you would prefer Thor not to know, perhaps I could have halted the conversation—” 

“Don’t try to put this on me, JARVIS,” Tony started, his tone teasing in the hopes of lightening the mood– but it seemed that the damage had already been done. 

Loki’s expression was beyond panicked, and he had moved to sit with both feet on the floor, leaning forward as if he were getting ready to _flee_ despite the break in his leg. “Is there a way to stop him from getting in here?” he asked, his words so quick that they were almost blending together. “JARVIS, you _have_ to have a way. Can you lock down the tower, or—”

“It’s okay, Lokes,” Tony said, his brow creasing into a frown. And he didn’t know _why_ Loki was so desperate to keep Thor away, but– “I’m not going to let him hurt you, all right? I _promise.”_

Loki smiled at that, and the expression seemed to make his whole countenance soften– though the lines of tension were still obvious in the tightness of his hands, fists pressing hard into both of his thighs, plastered or not. “Thank you,” he said. “But that is _not_ why I do not wish to see him.”

“Then why?” Tony asked. “You know you can trust me, right?”

“I do trust you,” Loki said– and there was something in his tone that scratched, something sharp and not quite hidden that would have put any half perceptive person on edge. 

But Tony felt like he knew better than that, and so he just smiled. “Good.”

Loki still hadn’t relaxed by the time Thor landed heavily on the balcony. He was still sitting very straight, his expression still pinched, and his eyes followed warily as Tony made his way toward the glass doors. 

JARVIS had just barely got them open before Tony was accosted by all one-and-a-half thousand pounds of Norse god. 

“Where is he?” Thor demanded, the hand not holding his hammer gripping the front of Tony’s shirt, probably irreversibly creasing the fabric. 

“Careful, Point Break,” Tony complained. “This is vintage, genuine merch from a Led Zeppelin concert in—”

“Is he badly hurt?” Thor snapped, not taking any notice of Tony’s protest in the slightest. “Steve told me that Loki was injured in the fight with Amora, and that he has yet to heal. Stark, _tell me—”_

“He broke his leg pretty bad,” Tony said, keeping his tone as soothing as possible. “Shattered the bone. I got him medical care, and the bone’s been reset. He’s _healing_. These things take time, all right, there’s nothing to be worried about.”

They were words that Tony had told himself over and over of course, convincing himself that Loki really was fine. Loki had said so, after all. But… there was enough disbelief and concern in Thor’s worried blue eyes that it was starting to infect Tony with doubt. 

“I know that it must be worse than that,” Thor said, his grip on Tony’s shirt tightening as he stepped even closer still. “Do not try to keep the truth from me, Tony. Not when it is about my brother. _Where is he?”_

“Thor.” 

Loki’s voice cut through the air like the sharpest of knives. The look on Thor’s face was almost comical– but the way he let go of Tony’s shirt and shoved him aside was _not_, since Tony almost ended up sprawling across the floor. 

He just managed to keep his balance– and he would have voiced yet another complaint on the matter, if had hadn’t caught sight of Loki.

Because then Tony’s eyes widened, and his breath caught in his throat. 

Loki wasn’t on the couch anymore. He was standing in front of it, his arms crossed over his chest and anger burning in his eyes—

And Tony couldn’t help but stare, because. 

Well. 

He hadn’t seen Loki upright in _weeks_. 

“Loki!” Thor exclaimed– though whether his voice was concerned, relieved, or irritated… well, Tony couldn’t entirely tell. 

“What are you doing here, Thor?” Loki snapped. “Why have you barged in here and attacked Anthony in his own home?” 

“I did not—”

“Thor!” Loki snapped– and he actually raised a hand as if he were planning to attack. Which, didn’t entirely seem like a good idea, considering that he still had a broken leg. 

Or… or did he? The plaster was still in place, making Loki’s stance look a little awkward, but Loki was _standing up—_

But, a month would be enough time for him to be able to do that. Right? 

“The Avengers told me that you were injured in a fight, and that Tony had taken you in,” Thor said. “They told me that you only broke your leg, but that you were still here. I thought that something must have gone very wrong. 

“I broke my leg very severely, Thor,” Loki said, his voice oddly tight. And Tony couldn’t help but stare at him because… well. Loki was a master at moulding his expressions to say only what he wanted them to, but over the past month of playing games and being friends, Tony had learned how to read every minute flicker through those bright green eyes. 

And Tony could see, he could _tell_ that Loki was hiding something. 

Loki was _lying_—

And it seemed that he wasn’t the only one who noticed. 

“No,” Thor said, shaking his head. “You were walking mere days after shattering _both_ of your legs on that hunting trip a few decades ago. And when Hulk smashed you into the ground, you were healed in hours—”

“They were all physical wounds,” Loki replied quickly. A little too quickly, perhaps. “This one was caused by seiðr, so of course it is taking longer. You know how that works, Thor, you’ve seen that before as well.” 

“Actually,” Tony said, staring at Loki. And he felt almost guilty for not taking Loki’s side here, but… Thor wasn’t only making sense, he was echoing thoughts that Tony’d had himself. “Your leg wasn’t broken by Amora’s magic, Lokes, I saw it. You blocked the spell, but the force of it threw you against the wall, and _that’s_ when your leg broke. It was no less physical than when Hulk hurt you.” 

Loki’s glare was icy– and Tony knew that he’d hit the mark. 

“Loki, you may not be too fond of me at the moment, but I still know you,” Thor said. “And if you are not healed by now, then there is something very wrong. Unless…” Here Thor’s eyes narrowed, and his voice went low. “Unless you _are_ entirely healed, but would rather nobody know it.” 

Tony’s eyes widened, and his gaze flickered between Thor and Loki in shock, unable to settle on just the one. Because that was an option that he had not even considered, one that had not so much as crossed his mind. And yet, it made a hell of a lot of sense. 

Far more sense than anything else that Tony had managed to come up with for that matter, and had he not been so utterly stunned he might have been mad for not having thought of it himself. 

It was as if he’d only been seeing one corner of the picture, the rest of it bathed in shadow– and the moment Thor had spoken the words, the light had shifted and he could suddenly see the entire thing. 

Loki had healed so much slower than normal, but he insisted that he was fine. The pain in his voice and his expression had lessened and disappeared entirely even though he remained in the wheelchair, but it wasn’t just Loki getting used to it. It was that the pain really had vanished entirely, because… 

Because, he’d _healed_. 

Loki’s expression was blank again, and it was clear that he was about to vehemently deny it. But as the pieces fell into place in Tony’s mind, he just…

He just didn’t want to hear Loki lie to him. Even if it seemed that Loki had been lying to him this entire time. 

So—

“Thor, I think you should leave,” Tony said– and Loki’s eyes darted to Tony in confusion, and… perhaps a little bit of hope. 

Thor, of course, immediately began to complain. “I do not think that it is a good idea to leave you with—”

“I will be fine,” Tony cut in, and then his eyes slid over to where Loki was still _standing_. His expression had tightened a little, but he still did not look upset, and he did not look like he was thinking of running. Tony supposed that was probably the best that he could have asked for. Then he turned back to Thor, and added– “And so will Loki. He’s been living here with me for weeks, and he has been nothing but pleasant.” That, of course, was a total lie, but Thor didn’t need to be aware of that little fact. “We’ll both be peachy. Shoo.” 

“If you’re certain,” Thor said warily. It was clear that he wasn’t convinced– and, at that point, you know what?

Against his better judgment, Tony decided that… perhaps he _should_ still be on Loki’s side. After all, if word of this got out – which it no doubt would the very moment Thor ran into any kind of sentient being – they might be facing another home invasion and possibly an arrest. Which was about the exact_ last_ thing that Tony wanted, even if… the realisation that Loki had been lying to him for goodness knows how long only opened up the question regarding his _reasons_ for lying in the first place.

But either way. That was something they needed to work out themselves, and besides— 

Well, okay, so maybe Tony _could_ admit that, at this point, there were only a few things Loki could have been doing that would make Tony be willing to let the Avengers lock him up. Because regardless of how it had started… Tony was _sure_ that somewhere along the way, they had become friends. 

If not maybe, hopefully, perhaps a little bit _more than_—

_No, Tony. _

“Just go, Thor,” Tony said, trying to push the thought away. “This is between Loki and I. He’s fine, as you can see. You didn’t need to come here.”

Despite his lingering reluctance, Thor _finally _turned to leave. Tony watched him go, his shoulders tense as he stalked back out onto the balcony. As he passed, he threw Tony a searching look– but Tony just stared back impassively. He knew that he’d no doubt have to answer to Thor for this later, but. For now, there was only the one person he wanted in his penthouse—

And the moment that Thor’s feet left the ground, Tony turned back to Loki. 

Loki was staring at Tony, clearly trying to gauge Tony’s reaction. But, Tony felt that it was his turn to wear a mask, hiding what _he_ was feeling until he could work out the details of what was going on. 

Because yeah, maybe Loki _had_ been playing a game with Tony. But then again, maybe he hadn’t. And the friendship Tony had found, the feelings that had begun to kindle between them– well, Tony didn’t want to lose any of that. He wanted to hold on for as long as he could, right up until he was _sure_ that Loki had actually betrayed him. 

There was a lot balanced on the outcome of this conversation, and for once– Tony didn’t want to ruin his chances at something good by being irrational. No matter how slim those chances were. 

So, rather than attacking Loki at the first moment he was given, Tony drew in a deep breath and stepped a little closer, keeping himself guarded and yet laying his heart on the line in the very same breath. 

“Can you answer me something?” he asked. 

Loki had to be burning with curiosity. Tony knew he wanted to ask why he’d sent Thor away, and he felt something of a spark of hope when Loki clearly pushed down his own interest and answered Tony instead. “Anything you want,” he said, his voice sounding strangely thick. 

So, wasting no time—

“Did you do it to steal from me?” Tony asked. “Or to learn information, so that you could fight the Avengers better? Or for, any reason along those lines?”

“No,” Loki said, the response as instant and unwavering as it was sharp. “I would never. I swear it.” 

“Then, _why_, Loki?” Tony asked. “Why did you lie?” He could feel an itch in his fingers that he _knew_ was just stress, and he flexed them as he tried to ignore it, tried to focus on Loki instead. 

Loki sighed, the long gush of air slumping his shoulders. And. He was still standing up, which was obviously something that Tony couldn’t help but notice. 

“The lie?” Loki murmured, and his voice had softened but he met Tony’s gaze without flinching despite the clear reluctance in every line of his body. “I admit, that is not where I would have expected you to start.”

“Then where _should_ I start?” Tony asked. His eyes glanced to the bar, the fingers of his right hand pressed hard into the side of his leg.

Loki seemed to notice the movement. His lips parted for a moment, as if he were going to make a comment that Tony _knew_ wouldn’t be an answer to his question– but then Loki lifted his hand instead, and summoned the Iron Man mug that Tony had left at the bar with a shimmer of green seiðr. 

The mug had been empty when Tony last saw it, but it was steaming when Loki held it out in front of him. 

And, maybe Tony should have hesitated a little, but… despite _knowing_ that Loki had lied, he still felt perfectly comfortable taking those few steps forward and accepting the mug from Loki’s hands. 

Tony took a sip, and almost choked on it. _Tea._ Of fucking course. 

It did the trick, though– having a drink in his hand, even just _tea_, was enough to calm the itch in his fingers and the gnawing urge in his mind. It let him focus back on the conversation, and it… also kind of highlighted just how well Loki had come to know him. 

They really _had_ become close, hadn’t they?

One fucking month. Apparently that was all it had taken for Tony to—

_Fuck. _

But, Tony never would have had even that much time if Loki hadn’t lied, and he must have lied right from the start, if Thor’s estimation of ‘mere days’ was anything to go by. And Loki had been only prickly and difficult those few days before the first card game, which meant that… well, perhaps that had something to do with it? Or had Loki thought of his lie before that?

The more Tony thought on it… 

Well, Loki hadn’t answered Tony’s question, but. He thought he might have worked something out on his own. 

Because Loki never even would have had the opportunity for what he had done, if he hadn’t done something _else_ first. 

“Okay,” Tony sighed. “I’ve got my question. Loki… why did you save my life?” 

Loki’s smile was tight, but it didn’t look like another lie. “That’s more like it,” he said. “A better place to start, right at the beginning. Or perhaps, what you would perceive to be the beginning.” He wet his lips before he continued, as if still struggling to choose his words. “Anthony… I saved your life because I didn’t want you dead,” he sighed. 

And Tony was just about to complain about the cop-out – because, _really? – _but thankfully, Loki wasn’t done. It seemed that he was just giving himself the time to take a breath, as if this were more taxing for him to admit than Tony knew. And that, of course, just made Tony want to know all the more– but Loki’s next words caught him by surprise. 

“You asked me, before, why I fight with Amora,” Loki said. “Did you think of an answer?”

He hadn’t, actually. But rather than make a comment, Tony just shook his head, sure that Loki would explain regardless. 

And, sure enough– “I fight with her because she puts on the kind of show that is easy to hide behind,” Loki said. “She distracts the other Avengers, keeping them busy as she tries to get at Thor. And I… I can just fight against _you.”_

“You work with Amora just to fight me?” Tony couldn’t help the question, his brow furrowing– though it was more for confirmation than out of confusion.

“Yes, do keep up Anthony,” Loki said, and for half a second it felt like they were just bantering all over again. But only for a moment. Then– “I do not _want_ to fight against you, but the way things were… that was the only way that I was able to speak with you. Bickering across the battlefield is hardly the same as a proper conversation, but it was better than nothing, and I always enjoyed every moment of it. I… I have always looked forward to seeing you, far more than you have ever known. And I have never wanted you harmed. So when I saw that blast of seiðr heading toward you, I did the only thing I could.”

“Even though _you_ ended up getting hurt in the process?” Tony asked. And, strangely, Loki’s words had him feeling a little out of breath, his heart beating just a little too fast. 

“That wasn’t part of my plan,” Loki admitted. “And I admit, when I woke in your penthouse I thought that the Norns must have been playing the cruelest of tricks. Stuck with you until I healed, in close proximity and unable to use the excuse of a fight to try and hide the way I _wished _that I could reach out and take you in my arms, to– well.”

“So you tried to push me away,” Tony breathed—

And Loki nodded sharply, the jerk of his head at odds with the warmth of his voice. “But then you wanted to play a game,” he sighed. “You were kind and witty and, I simply…” He glanced down then, his arms crossing over his chest. 

“Loki?” Tony asked, his voice carried on the tune of a single exhale– and he was standing close enough to Loki now that he only had to lift his free hand to be able to brush his fingers along the sleeve of Loki’s shirt. 

“But you wanted to know why I _lied,”_ Loki said, shrugging his shoulders with an aura of defeat. “I suppose, if you take all of what I have admitted into account… then the answer to your original question should become rather obvious.” 

Tony smiled as his hand curled around Loki’s forearm, and he tilted up his chin. 

“Maybe it is obvious,” Tony said. “But… even after all that, I think I would like to hear you say it anyway.”

Loki’s gaze flashed back to Tony’s, his lips parting in surprise– and there was a touch of something flittering across his face, something that Tony thought might have been hope. “Then ask me,” he whispered. 

Tony leaned in a little further, the fingers still curled around his mug tightening in anticipation. “Why did you do it?”

Loki smiled, the gentle upturn to his lips making his whole expression go soft. “Would you believe that I just wanted to spend more time with you, Anthony?” he whispered. “That I didn’t want all of this to come to an end?”

And that… well, that was more than enough. Tony reached up with his free hand to trace the skin of Loki’s cheek as he said, “You know… you don’t have to be injured for that, Lokes. You can spend as much time with me as you want.” 

“Truly?” Loki breathed. 

Tony matched Loki’s smile as he finally pressed up on his toes, and he whispered his answer against the lightest touch of Loki’s lips. “Yeah. Truly.” 

It was Loki who surged forward then, catching Tony’s lips in a kiss that made them both gasp. Tony’s eyes fell closed as Loki’s arms wound around his waist, leaving Tony’s free hand to thread through Loki’s hair, pulling him _closer_. It was never more apparent that Loki really _was_ entirely healed, his ‘broken’ leg causing no issue – the plaster miraculously disappearing – as he pulled Tony close against him, actually bending down to kiss Tony more firmly. The mug was pressed between them as their lips and tongues danced together with a passion Tony hadn’t previously known, and he thought that it might have been the single most perfect moment of his life.

Well, at least until he realised—

“Hang on,” Tony said, breaking the kiss and leaning away so that he could meet Loki’s eyes with a glare. “You’re telling me that you had me waiting on you hand and foot for _weeks_, for absolutely no reason at all?”

“The plan did work rather well, didn’t it?” Loki asked brightly– and then he leaned down to kiss Tony again, which, Tony allowed. For a couple of seconds. Maybe a little longer than that—

“You are so going to pay me back for this,” Tony groaned, his lips still pressed to Loki’s and the words a little muffled as a result. 

“Oh?” Loki’s smile was wicked, and Tony’s breath caught as Loki’s hand slid under his shirt to stroke over bare skin. “And do you know how you would like me to repay you?”

“Yeah,” Tony grinned, the anticipation burning hot. “Yeah, I think I might have a few ideas.” 

And as their lips crashed together once more, china shattering on the ground, fingers raking over skin and hearts beating with warmth, Tony couldn’t help but think that _sometimes_, at least_–_ a little lie can go a long way to doing a lot of good. 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find the art for this fic on tumblr [here.](https://nonexistenz.tumblr.com/post/188719852712/drew-this-for-the-frostiron-mini-bang-2019-hosted)


End file.
